


A week

by EthicallySoursedBones



Series: Heaven in a Devil's Palm [2]
Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Ya ever just miss someone so much that you go to check on them?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:07:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthicallySoursedBones/pseuds/EthicallySoursedBones
Summary: It's been a week since Dante has been home, as well as a few weeks where he hasn't had constant jobs. While a good thing, the reader comes to miss her demon.Anime! Dante/reader
Relationships: Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader
Series: Heaven in a Devil's Palm [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166384
Kudos: 22





	A week

Starring up at your bedroom ceiling, the only noise was the sound of your cat purring while curled up on your calves. You sigh, looking around at the various shit on your walls. Hoping one will spark a thought to take your mind away. The various movie and show posters, old photos of your family. Nothing seems to do the trick. Maybe you should redecorate. 

Finally, you sit up. Looking down at your cat. "Hey Val." You whisper, giving him under jaw scratches. "Thank you for trying to make me feel better." He meows through the rumble of his little body. "We're fine, I promise. I just... miss him." Another meow as you get right under his ears. "He's been working a lot, and that's good! He'll finally be able to pay his bills but... ugh I don't know." 

You throw yourself back onto the pillow, Val choosing to get up and walk up to your chest, curling up on your breasts. "I feel selfish, like I'm demanding his attention." He meows before shoving his face into his thigh, beginning to purr once again. "I wonder if he's back yet... what do you think?" You get no response other then a 'mrmmph' as you run your hands through his long black fur. 

"Alright, my little purr engine. I can at least go check on him, or at least the shop."  
_______

The sharp wind would have bit at Dante's skin if it were not for his inhumanly heat. The red neon sign lights the two inches of snow, pink. The front door creaks loudly as he pushes through, opening to a cold and empty office. That was normal for him to come home to, the unfriendly emptiness. 

Blood drips onto the floor in pools as he drops his weapons close to the door, it would all be dry by morning. And knowing Patty, she'd come by and complain about the 'mud' he tracked in. It doesnt matter, he'd been out for a week and hasn't slept in three days, Patty isnt what he wants to be worried about right now. Exhaustion like this isnt common for him, but god everything aches.

A familiar, lingering, sent masks the pungency of the blood, It made him internally ache for the one person who didn't yell or put a bullet into his head. That smell, your smell, made him want you. Not sexually, just wanting you to be around after days of blood and gore. The strict contrast is comforting. 

The sound of his boots hitting the stairs echo through the first floor, he just needs to get to bed. The white cotton sheets were going to be stained with demon blood, but he knows you'll end up getting them out. It's almost frightening how well woman can get rid of blood. He drops face first into the pillows, lazily kicking off this boots. 

He breaths in deeply, taking in your sweet lingering sent. It hung all around DMC, but it clung to his clothes and bed the strongest. It was almost as good as really having you here. Almost. His eyes flutter closed, ignoring how brightly the moonlight lit up his bedroom.  
_____

The snow crunched under your shoes, soon glittering pink in the light of that familiar neon sign. Your brows knit with consern at the front door, left ajar, with a trail of (hopefully just) demon blood. Well, at least you know Dante really is back. You let yourself in, gently closing the door behind you. Taking off your shoes in fear of being too loud. 

You tiptoe past the rebellion, in the fabric guitar case he keeps it in. Your foot, covered in flesh toned pantyhose, comes down into a cold wet puddle. You arent stupid, you know what it is. Your eyes shut tightly as you whimper softly, mourning the color of your tights and the softness of your hands tomorrow when you have to scrub the blood stain out. 

You set your shoes by his desk and quietly pad up the stairs on the balls of your feet. Peaking into his bedroom, in which the door was also left ajar. He's laying there, still in his leather coat. One of his boots is laying on its side on the floor, the other isnt even completely off of his foot and barely dangling off the bed. You stifle a small laugh and sneak in. 

Dante feels his other shoe slip off and land on the ground with a light thunk. He doesnt know if the person in his room is really you, or if it's just that his face is buried in the pillow you always use. Said pillow slips from his arms, being placed in its rightful spot. His arm is lifted and a familiar form takes the pillows place. 

You don't bother to pull the covers over yourself, just snuggle up against him. His overwhelming warmth doing the job better then any duvet. You don't mind the smell of demon blood on him anymore, you're just happy to be here with him. You close your eyes to try and finally sleep, but two muscular arms pull you in closer. Completely enveloping your form. 

His face burys into your hair and he mumbles something into it. You can't tell what he said, weither that be from your scalp blocking it, or his own exhaustion causing him to slur his words. You smile, feeling him try to pull you in closer, tighter, like at any second the realities of his life will rip you from his arms. 

That you'll be reduced to nothing but a bloody corpse, and it'll be all his fault. 

You shove your face into his neck, placing a soft kiss to his warm flesh with a gentle hum. He feels your lips curve into a smile against his skin, and a feeling of relief finally washes over him as you whisper. "I missed you." He mumbles back against your scalp. "Missed you too."


End file.
